


A Foolishly Determined Woman

by CrotchetyOldLady



Series: Foolhardy [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, POV Brienne of Tarth, Post-Episode: s08e04 The Last of the Starks, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 12:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18800278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrotchetyOldLady/pseuds/CrotchetyOldLady
Summary: Sequel to An Honorable Man, A FoolWith the help of Sansa, Brienne understands the true reason Jaime hurt her so and is given new orders.





	A Foolishly Determined Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos & comments on aHMaF, this is for you!
> 
> I wanted to get this out before the next episode proves me a fool and makes me mad all over again. 
> 
> I have actively avoided all leaks, so I know nothing.

Brienne made her way to her chambers with tears still streaming down her face. She should not be shocked, she should not be so hurt. Did not some part of her know that this had all been temporary? That Jaime could never truly be hers?

Still wrapped in her robe she lay on the bed. She touched the left side where he had slept next to her for almost a month. As a soldier she had long ago trained her body to fall asleep no matter the circumstance and she did so now, perhaps when she awoke this would all be but a dream.

She woke with first light as she normally did, but she was cold and her head felt stuffed with cotton. She threw a log in the dwindling fire and dressed quickly, before leaving to see Lady Sansa.

She greeted Brienne warmly as usual while her lady’s maid finished helping her dress. Brienne stood stiffly in the doorway until they finished and Sansa dismissed the maid. Her Lady stood and faced her looking tall and stern.

“What has happened?” she asked.

“What do you mean my Lady?” Brienne blinked.

“I know the eyes of someone who has cried themselves to sleep. They are not an uncommon occurrence these days, but they are uncommon on you,” she said.

Brienne thought of not telling her, of begging off, denying issue, but Lady Sansa was perhaps the smartest person she had ever met and she trusted her completely. So she told her lady everything. Sansa was quiet for a while.

“Jaime Lannister is a liar. Golden lion may be his house vigil, but he has a silver tongue,” she said.

“I—I do not understand,” Brienne touched the lion head of her sword.

“He spoke the words he knew would hurt you most, but I do not think your trust in him was misplaced,” Sansa replied, clasping her hands in front of her, she gazed out the window thoughtfully.

“Jaime slew a king once. A king he had idolized as a boy and had vowed to serve and protect. A king who grew insane with cruelty and power over the years, who would rather see the city and all his subjects burn than give up the throne. A king who ordered him to kill those he loved.” Sansa cocked her head and looked at Brienne now. “I have come to understand that of all the terrible things Jaime Lannister has done, slaying a king is not among them. He saved thousands that day and I think he aims to do so again.”

“I don’t—” Brienne shook her head and leaned heavily against the wall behind her. “My Lady, this is too much, please speak plainly.”

“I believe the Kingslayer rides south to slay a queen, directly or indirectly I cannot say. He is of a unique position. Cersei loved and trusted him once, he can tell her that he only left to help defeat the dead, beg her forgiveness as he prostrates himself before her. At the very least she won’t kill him right away. He has a chance to get close to her that no one else has.”

“But why now and why would he not tell me?” Brienne cried.

“Oh Ser Brienne, it is because he knows you so well. You are not a lady who would sit at home waiting for her lord husband to return, you are a knight, perhaps the most honorable knight in the Seven Kingdoms. He knows you could not stay behind if it meant protecting the realm,” Sansa sighed, her keen blue eyes locked onto Brienne’s paler ones. “If it meant protecting the one you loved.”

“But he loves Cersei,” Brienne whispered.

“Yes, I think the sort of love he held for her never truly goes away. But I believe it has changed, it is not what it once was. I believe he has come to love someone else more, someone who is far better than his sister ever was, someone who is worth making great sacrifices for.”

“Even so, I am sworn to protect you my Lady, I could not leave,” Brienne said, she looked out the window, eyes smarting.

The more Sansa spoke, the more Jaime’s actions made sense. He had stayed when the Dragon Queen and her armies left to destroy Cersei, but had left when the Dragon Queen was weakened and Cersei had a greater upper hand. But the knowledge, if true, did not lessen the ache in her heart, only changed the reason for it.

“Yes, you are sworn to protect me and I now believe Cersei is the greatest threat to me,” Sansa said, turning and opening her chamber door. Brienne straightened. “I order you Ser Brienne to ride south and protect Jaime Lannister so that he may reach King’s Landing and fulfill his emprise.”

“My lady, I cannot—” Brienne gasped. Sansa walked into the hall.

“You can and you will, Ser,” she said giving Brienne a look that reminded her fiercely of Lady Catelyn. Brienne squared her shoulders.

“As you command, my Lady,” she said, giving Sansa a trembling but true smile.

“Very good. Ready your horse, I will fetch provisions, we will meet at the gate. You must leave quickly if you stand a chance of catching up to him,” Sansa said striding away with long purposeful steps.

Already armored and with Oathkeeper strapped to her hip she made her way directly to the stables, ordering a hand to ready a mount for a long hard ride, then left to find Podrick. She found him in the dining hall, finishing his breakfast. She spoke fast, telling him everything that had transpired and her new orders as he listened with a gaping mouth. When she had finished, he shot up from the bench nearly spilling his drink.

“I will ready myself immediately, Ser,” he said, moving to leave.

“No Podrick,” Brienne said, grabbing his arm before he could rush off. “I have a different task for you, follow me to the armory.” He frowned, but nodded and Brienne led the way.

“Am I not joining you then, Ser?” he asked. Brienne shook her head.

“You will be staying here.” They arrived at the armory. “Fetch me a quiver and some arrows while I grab a bow.”

They completed their tasks and walked back to the stables in silence. She could tell that Podrick was unhappy with the order to stay at Winterfell without her, as he stared at his boots with a crumpled brow. The hand had her horse ready for her and she nodded to him in thanks then turned to her squire.

“I need to know that someone I trust is with Lady Sansa,” Brienne said, clasping Podrick’s shoulders. “Jon and Arya are gone. Theon is…gone. I am leaving. I know the people of the North are loyal to her, but all those that could fight have gone south. I cannot leave my lady without any protection.”

“I understand,” Podrick replied, his back straightening and the upset gone from his face at her explanation. “I will not let you down, Ser.”

Brienne smiled and squeezed his shoulders. “I know you won’t Pod.”

Sansa was waiting at the gate for them with Bran by her side and provisions in hand, which she handed to Podrick to pack on the horse. Bran stared at Brienne, through her, and she suppressed a shiver. Turning to Sansa she bowed low.

“I expect you to return to me Ser Brienne once this threat is dealt with,” Sansa said, reaching out snow white fingers to touch Brienne’s huge, freckled ones.

She gently grasped her lady’s delicate hand in her own and bowed over it bringing it to her lips as any dashing knight would have in those stories she’d read as a child.

“You have my word, Lady Sansa,” she said, meeting her eyes.

“There is little I trust more in this world,” Sansa smiled at her, though her eyes looked a little sad as she slipped her hand from Brienne’s grasp.

Brienne turned and after clasping Podrick’s shoulder a final time mounted her horse.

She set a fast, but maintanable pace, her horse tiring would only slow her down. She stopped once at a stream for water and to stretch her tingling legs. It had been many months now since she had ridden a long distance. Although she was making good time, she had no doubt Jaime would have as well. Her best hope was that he would stop to rest come darkness and she would ride through the night.

So dark came, forcing her to slow her pace, but she kept on. The black sky was turning navy when she spotted a shadow in the distance. It seemed to be a lone rider, but it was impossible to tell anything truly in the dark and from so far. She spurred her horse, her blood rushing in her ears. If it was Jaime she was ready to confront him, if it was someone else she was ready to apologize or fight as need be. Whoever they were, she did not have the patience to follow cautiously and wait for daylight.

She rode fast and hard, she could feel her already tired horse wearing down, but she kept pushing. The figure obviously heard her and spurred their own horse, but Brienne would not lose. She was only a few yards away when she knew without a doubt it was him. She caught up to him in a blur and pulled her horse in front of his, causing him to veer so they were side by side and stopping them both.

His brow was furrowed. “Ser Brienne?”

Her rage, her hurt filled her and with all her strength she shoved Jaime off his horse. He flailed as he fell and his right foot caught in the stirrup. She dismounted gracefully and by the time she had rounded their horses he had disentangled himself, but was still on the ground, gaping up at her with a look of shock. She unsheathed Oathkeeper, pointing it directly at his heart.

“You are a liar and a fool,” she growled. His gaze traveled up the blade and locked onto hers.

“That should not have been shocking to you,” he drawled. She jabbed his armor, making him grunt.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Fight me,” was her only reply.

He sat up straighter. “I’m not going to fight you.”

Brienne’s scowl deepened and she kicked dirt at him.

“Fight me,” she snarled again as he sputtered and wiped at his face.

When he only shook his head, she kicked more dirt at him. With an angry noise, he surged to his feet, frantically wiping at his eyes and swearing. She jabbed him with her sword again which he swatted away with his gold hand.

“I’m not going to fucking fight you,” he yelled taking a step back.

She swung her sword, slapping him with the flat end, it felt good to hit him. She raised her arms to swing again and he finally drew his sword to block her second attack. Now that he had armed himself Brienne let loose, raining down blow after blow. Moving them into the sparse crop of trees off the side of the road. Jaime blocked her attacks, but never tried to perform any of his own. He looked miserable, Brienne noted, so different from any other time they had fought—they both found joy and satisfaction in sparring and even the few times they had fought in the beginning as enemies he had been alight with fire to have a worthy opponent. Right now he looked as if he was loathing every moment of this, but instead of feeling pity, Brienne felt if anything more enraged. With a roar she lept at him and he barely managed to block the blow in time.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he grunted as she bore down on him. She pressed hard, forcing him to step back.

“Then why did you leave?” she cried and his knees almost buckled.

“I—I told—” he gasped.

“I want no more of your gilded lies _Ser_. Tell me truthfully, I deserve that much, or do you truly think so little of me?” She shoved on her sword again and he fell to one knee.

“Hate me, I am hateful, that is true. But I cannot speak the truth, I can barely think it,” he pleaded, his arms trembling, eyes glassy.

“ _Say_ it, Jaime, _say it_ ,” she yelled, another shove and he was on both knees.

“I left to stop her! She’s too powerful, she’s too smart,” he said. Brienne dropped her sword and Jaime flung his aside, a tear fell down his face. “No one knows her like I do, knows what she is capable of, what her weaknesses are. I can’t let her destroy everything, I can’t let her—”

Brienne grabbed his face and kissed him. She ate his words and swallowed his sorrow. She felt his hands gripping her armor, pulling her against him as he he kissed her back desperately. It was a feral thing, half painful, her large teeth getting in the way, she bit his bottom lip so hard she tasted copper. Her pulled back with a sharp gasp, but returned his lips to her skin immediately, kissing down her chin to her neck. She felt his hand work under her leather over-skirt to touch the laces of her breeches. She shoved him hard.

Jaime fell, backing hitting the tree behind him, mouth open to probably stammer some apology, until Brienne bent down and took off one boot, the other, then her breeches, laying them all in a pile. She stepped over him a bare foot on either side of his knees. His eyes traced up her bare legs to her leather over-skirt, the belt holding her empty sheath, the exquisite blue armor he’d had made for her, to her stunning blue eyes filled with a boil of emotions. He grabbed the sheath and yanked.

She fell to her knees and he grasped her shoulders to bring her close enough to kiss. She bit his tongue when it entered her mouth and he groaned. He rest his stump against one thigh as his hand slid up her other thigh and made its way around so that his fingertips brushed against her.

She bore down on him, pressing his back into the tree and he slipped his fingers between her lips to rub where she ached so desperately. She kissed him and ground against his hand until she felt the fire building high inside her. She ripped her mouth away and wrenched his hand from between her legs.

Instead she leaned back and unlaced his breeches, pulled him free. She met his bright green eyes as she positioned herself over him. Unable to stand his gaze she kissed him hard again, then took him inside her.

He swore into her mouth and jerked his hips up into her. His stump pressed at her hip and his hand worked into her hair. The touch felt too gentle so she grabbed the offending appendage, pinning against the tree above their heads and rocked against him. He threw his head back with another oath.

Brienne set a relentless pace, keeping Jaime’s arm pinned with one hand and using the other to stoke the fire again. She bit and sucked and kissed and bit his cheeks, lips, jaw, and neck. Her face was growing raw from his beard, knees burning against the ground, her toes going numb. Their armor was creaking and clanking and their skin and gasps were lewd and loud.

“Brienne, I—” Jaime gasped.

“No,” she snapped. “Not yet.”

He groaned, but clenched his teeth and she could feel him shaking beneath her, but she rode on. It wasn’t long until the fire consumed her, she bit the leather armor at his shoulder so hard her jaw cracked, screaming around it, her nails digging into his glove above them. She felt him jerk up into her and heard him cry her name as if through a fog.

She let go of his hand and slumped against him, catching her breath. He traced his fingers through her hair, over the shell of her ear.

“You are not supposed to be here,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

She grunted and lifted off of him slightly to look into his face. His eyes searched hers, she wondered what he hoped to find. Forgiveness? Hate? In truth she just felt tired now, spent, and a little sad.

“Why are you here, Brienne?”

She sighed and rose off him. He stood, watching her and lacing up his breeches as she walked back to their horses. She retrieved a rag from her saddle bag and cleaned herself, before returning to him and her missing clothes. She put on her breeches and made to put on her boots. Jaime moved forward and knelt to do the task for her.

“Nothing’s more hateful than failing to protect the one you love and I don’t mean to do so ever again,” she said quietly, watching him work.

“Love…” he whispered. He finished and stood to face her again. “You should not love me.”

“Do not presume to tell me what I should and should not do _Ser_ . I am a woman grown and a _knight_ besides, I require no keeper.” The corner of his mouth quirked up at that, though he fought it back down.

“I meant to do this alone, to protect the one _I_ love,” he said, his hand lifting between them and his fingertips barely brush her cheek. She captured his limb, his glove was torn from the rough tree bark, so she peeled it off and stared at the hand underneath. She thought of all it has done, those it has slane, those it has saved, how it has touched her. She pressed it to her lips, closed her eyes, breathed deeply.

“You are not alone Jaime,” she said into his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> What's the point of your otp both being knights if they don't have armored sex ;) 
> 
> I had to leave the ending a little bittersweet and open, otherwise it would turn into a few more chapters and that is not my goal here.
> 
> Also, Sansa and Brienne's relationship is one of my other fav things.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, kudos & comments make my day!


End file.
